Seth’s stony expression gave slightly when he heard the hoarse quality of Christian’s voice.
“Sorry, man. That’s rough. Another guy?”
He breathed deeply and finally turned to face Seth. He knew he was acting badly. He knew it. He just couldn’t seem to get a handle on himself. The concepts of restfulness, peace, and sleep had been banished from his mind and body’s vocabulary for three nights now.
Ever since Hilary’s visit.
“I wish it were that simple,” Christian muttered.
Seth whistled softly. “That bad, huh? You look like shit, Christian. You need to go home and get some sleep. I’ll talk to Jamie. I’ll make up something.”
Christian shook his head. “Nah, I’ll do it. I owe him an apology.” He met Seth’s stare. “I owe all of you one.”
“Make up for it by going home and getting some sleep.”
Christian nodded. “After I apologize.”
He thought he finally knew how he could find a sense of calm. He just hoped he didn’t get thrown in jail for trying it.
* * * * *
Megan stayed at her studio until eleven that evening, working like a woman possessed.
She was so intense that Tina, who came by to chat, vacated the studio immediately. She was totally absorbed in the process of chasing a newly cast sculpture. Aside from the loud sound of the sandblaster she was using, Tina probably could tell that she wasn’t in the mood to talk. Tina probably assumed it was her work that was preoccupying her. Her friend knew how focused Megan was about cleaning up and refining her pieces after they’d been removed from the investment casting. She was like a doctor bringing a new baby into the world.
What Tina didn’t know was that she’d thrown herself so completely into her work in order to distract herself from the pervasive ache in the vicinity of her heart.
Christian hadn’t called or sought her out for three days now. It surprised her how much she missed him—how much it hurt that he hadn’t called. The sinking feeling she had in her gut told her that three days were about to become four…and four days were likely to lead to forever. The thought had plagued her so greatly that she’d dealt with her anguish in the best way she knew—she’d lost herself in her art.
She’d worn herself out so much that she barely was able to mumble a coherent “good night” to the new condominium doorman when she got home that night.
She’d considered asking Jeff as she left for school early that morning if Christian had to leave town again, but had felt too humiliated to do it.
Was he irritated at her for cutting off their passionate embrace so abruptly? It was the only thought that prevented her from calling him on one of the phone numbers he’d given her. She wanted more than anything to hear the sound of his singular voice, to look into his singular gaze, to see his crooked smile. But what if she tried to call him and he behaved coldly toward her? If he did, it would all be because of her immature handling of that situation by the elevator.
When the doorman hopped up to open the door for her, Megan paused speculatively. He was a stranger to her, so it wasn’t as embarrassing as if it were Jeff--
“I’m sorry, I forgot your name.”
“It’s Peter, ma’am.”
“Hi, Peter. I’m Megan. I live in unit 506. I have a friend who lives up in the penthouse suite on the ninth floor.”
Peter looked impressed. “Chris Lasher is your friend?”
She nodded. “I was wondering; do you know if he’s in town?”
He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I was told during my orientation that I wasn’t supposed to reveal that kind of private information about our residents, ma’am.”
“Oh, of course, I understand. I just haven’t seen him in a few days, and I was beginning to get a little concerned,” Megan mumbled, embarrassed.
“Don’t worry. He’s okay. I’ve seen him the past few nights when he comes home late. He must be a real night owl.”
Megan’s lips parted in surprise and the unexpected morsel of information. She barely managed to mutter a coherent “thank you” before she walked away, leaving Peter to look after her with puzzled speculation.
A half hour later, she lay in bed and stared at the ceiling sightlessly. She had been so exhausted earlier, she would have thought that she would lose consciousness the moment her head hit the pillow. Instead, her thoughts kept her wide awake. She turned on her side to protect the vulnerable area around her heart.
Christian had been here, in the same building as her, for the past three days, and hadn’t even called. What was he doing when he stayed out so late at night?